


and i want to go home (but i am home)

by letthecitybreathe



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Morning After, adjusting to peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letthecitybreathe/pseuds/letthecitybreathe
Summary: The village is small and growing and beautiful, and Tobirama can feel Madara staring at him as he gazes out over it. Can feel the warmth of his skin through the cool early morning air as the sun rises over the horizon, first rays of light touching the earth, and that leads to a whole new line of questioning over whether all Uchiha run this warm, and if it’s due to their fire affinity, or if it’s just Madara who burns like a star.or, tobirama has some trouble adjusting to peacetime





	and i want to go home (but i am home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanxkei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanxkei/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I’msotiredatthispointsofuckit_wip.jpg](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/418952) by sanxkei. 



> me reblogging [this piece of art](https://sanxkei.tumblr.com/post/177573730020/imsotiredatthispointsofuckitwipjpg) fifty times: have y'all SEEN THIS
> 
> anyway, this is for the madatobi remix challenge! i got [sanxkei](https://sanxkei.tumblr.com/) so i decided to do a remix of [this piece](https://sanxkei.tumblr.com/post/177573730020/imsotiredatthispointsofuckitwipjpg) because i love it. have y'all seen it yet? have you?
> 
> this is unproofread and unbetad and also written MOSTLY in three days, because i wrote a WHOLE DIFFERENT THING and almost finished it but ended up hating it so. SORRY IF THIS SUCKS IM DOING MY BEST

Tobirama wakes up at two in the morning in Madara’s bed with Madara’s face pressed up against his neck and their legs tangled together and absolutely panics. He can remember exactly how he got here, remembers going back to Madara’s house, remembers falling into _bed_ with the man, and he still panics.

There’s no room to breathe through it in his chest, the tightly wound beating of his heart and deep-set feeling of _shame_ , of betraying his father and his mother and his brothers and every cousin and uncle and aunt who died as part of the useless, bloody war waged between their clans.

There’s no room to _think_ through it, and so he doesn’t.

He blindly grabs for his clothes, prays to whichever god is listening that he isn’t wearing anything with an Uchiha fan on it, and flees like a coward.

 

He heads for the cliffs ringing the village, the cliffs where his brother plans to carve his own damn face into a mountain, and tries to breathe through the tightly coiled panic in his chest. This village is his brothers dream, everything Hashirama has lived for since the day he realized there was more to live for than dying on a battlefield. Tobirama wouldn’t even think of doing something to damage Konohagakure, but there are days where he looks at the Uchiha and all he can think of is Kawarama’s empty coffin being lowered into the earth and the final frozen look of terror on Itama’s face, the aching loss of being an older brother one day and the youngest the next.

But from here, it’s so hard to hold onto the idea that the peace won’t last. Konoha is beautiful in the pale moonlight, and even though the part of him that still objects to living in a village made of wood when half of their numbers are fire style users rears its head he can’t bring himself to object in light of the simple beauty of this village his brother loves so much.

He takes a second, lets his senses stretch out, and the world opens up with the light of chakra. There’s Hashirama and Mito, awake but still in bed. Touka’s still asleep, as is Izuna next to her, which is something he’s still trying to get used to the idea of. He searches for Madara out of instinct, but he’s not in his home like Tobirama expects and he panics for a second, _again_ , mentally running through the mission’s registry and every conversation he’s had with Hashirama for the past month because he knows Madara wouldn’t just disappear like that, not when he’s wanted this village almost as much as Hashirama did and there has to be _some_ explanation for it.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Madara asks from behind him, voice still gruff with sleep, and Tobirama nearly throws a kunai at his head because of _course_ Madara would be an insufferable bastard even after they’ve had sex.

There’s something…different, about Madara’s chakra. Calmer and twisted up, but Tobirama doesn’t know what it means. He can feel Hashirama’s bright pride over the village and Mito’s quiet happiness at being able to have peaceful mornings with her husband. He can even feel how content Touka is and a small, bubbling happiness twisted with a hint of wariness from Izuna as they’re asleep, but Madara just needs to make things difficult.

“I was _trying_ to think,” he says, because it’s mostly the truth. He knows that his distrust of the Uchiha and this peace wouldn’t be well accepted here, and as much as he wants to be contrary he knows it’s just petty childhood bitterness at the boy who stole his older brother’s affections from him.

“Then just _don’t_ ,” Madara says, as if that’s something that makes sense.

“Don’t _what_ ,” Tobirama asks, which just makes Madara huff again.

“Just don’t think so hard,” Madara says, as if it’s that easy. “You’re always so worked up about something. It stresses me out.”

“Then maybe,” Tobirama says, barely concealing the bitterness in his voice, “you should stop paying attention to me, and start minding your own business.”

“Or,” Madara says, and Tobirama can feel a migraine coming on, “maybe you need to chill out. Your worrying won’t fix anything.”

“I’m not _worrying_ ,” Tobirama says. “I’m just –”

“Obsessing. Constantly thinking about how everything will go wrong.”

“I’m being _practical_ ,” he snaps, patience running thin. “Our clans have been at war since before either of us were _born_. Someone has to be realistic if you and my brother will not be.”

“That’s stupid,” Madara says, and it takes Tobirama a minute to remind himself why this peace is so important and why he can’t just throw a kunai at Madara’s head and be done with it.

“It’s not –”

“Yes, it _is_ ,” Madara insists, taking a step closer. “You can’t just keep on waiting for the other shoe to drop, you’ll fucking kill yourself in the process.”

Tobirama has to reign himself in, keep himself from shouting or doing something he’ll regret. It feels like there’s a buzzing under his skin, and there are no familiar graves here to talk to.

“Just relax,” Madara says, and the heat and argument has gone out of his voice. He sounds weary, as if he’s not the same as Hashirama, as if he hasn’t dreamed of this peace his whole life. “Come back to bed.”

The village is small and growing and beautiful, and Tobirama can feel Madara staring at him as he gazes out over it. Can feel the warmth of his skin through the cool early morning air as the sun rises over the horizon, first rays of light touching the earth, and that leads to a whole new line of questioning over whether all Uchiha run this warm, and if it’s due to their fire affinity, or if it’s just Madara who burns like a star.

He lifts his eyes from the village to stare at the sky for just a second, and then Madara reaches out and wraps his hand around his elbow.

“Come on,” he says again, so gently. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Tobirama nods once, quickly. “Okay,” he says quietly, and lets Madara lead him back to the village, back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr as [glitteratti]()! yell at me about tobirama i love that bitch. sorry about all the italics i genuinely cannot stop using them


End file.
